A Heart's Darkness
by Sneffita PT
Summary: Summary: Sometimes when something horrible happens in your life Darkness envelops your heart and takes hold of your mind… Can Love force that Darkness away? [Edward&Bella] [AU] [MobFic]
1. Prologue

**A Heart's Darkness**

**Summary:** Sometimes when something horrible happens in your life Darkness envelops your heart and takes hold of your mind… Can Love force that Darkness away? [Edward&Bella] AU

**AN:** Hello everyone, this is my first fic, so I hope you will forgive any mistake I will probably make. I also wish you enjoy it and will leave your opinions, hopefully constructive ones, if not oh well I'll just have to deal with it:P

**Disclaimer: **Anything that belongs to Stephenie Meyer Is Hers, the rest is mine:P

**Prologue**

People go about their lives every day, not looking; not caring; not SEEING what goes on around them. Not giving a single thought for all the suffering, the torture, the pain and heartbreak that surrounds them. As long as it doesn't touch them, doesn't affect their lives, it doesn't matter. They look the other way, pretend not to hear. It's only human nature after all, our own existence always comes above all others, our happiness and the continuation of our life, and we do everything in our power to maintain it that way.

It can't be considered selfishness, it's called survival. The most pure and raw instinct of Humanity, that is born with us as we battle to grow inside our mother's womb, continues with our first breath of life, until it ends with our last. Our fate is always the same, it will always end with that last moment, when the light leaves our eyes, and we look on, unfocused and unseeing, forever. And it's in our nature to try and postpone that moment for as long as we can, no matter what we have to do.

If we see a homeless person asking for some change on the street, we look the other way so we don't have to be bothered by it. Our country teaches us to scream fire instead of help if we are in need of it, because someone will be more likely to answer to a fire then a request for help. We watch all the news about poverty and disease, robbery and murder, but do nothing about it. There is no end to the things that we pretend not to see.

Of course that there are always those rare exceptions, the minority that actually cares for what's going on around them, cops, firefighters, doctors, volunteers of all kinds. But still, it's not enough, and it will never be.

I was like that to, you could defend me by saying that it was because I was young and naïve, but still, I was not looking, not listening. The only thought that ever passed my mind in acknowledgement of others people pain was –_"I shouldn't complain about my life, there's people out there with a worse life than mine"-_ Pfft such a trivial thought if you ask me now. Even though I wanted to make those lives better, I never really gave it enough thought.

Maybe I was not as blind as most because of my father, of the kind of life he had and made sure to share with me, always teaching me all that he could, in secret of course, for two reasons, one you aren't supposed to teach a child how to use a gun, and second because of my mother. He wouldn't want her wrath pointed at him, that's for sure. She knew about certain things, but the ones that I wasn't supposed to learn, were kept between me and my father.

I learned since young not to share the knowledge of what I learned from him, it was our way of bonding, since we were both people that didn't talk much, and didn't knew how to express our feelings. He always said I was too intelligent for my age, only later did we find out how right he was; that I had an IQ of a genius, maybe due to my photographic memory.

I loved learning new things, fighting, shooting, hacking, and learning how to read people, everything I could learn from my father, because it was my goal to one day become like him. You would think he was building the perfect soldier, or more like him, agent, but he never wanted that life for me, even though it was my dream.

Besides what my father taught me, something else I loved learning was languages, besides English and my parents mother language Italian which they made sure to talk all the time when we were together, I also knew Japanese, Korean, German, French, Spanish and Portuguese. And even though I knew all of those it wasn't enough for me yet, the more languages I learned the better I felt.

I had a lot of time, since I was always homeschooled, I only tried going to school one year and it didn't go very well. Besides having skipped two grades, making me much younger than the people in my class, because of my mentality being always many years further than my real age, I was socially awkward. I just couldn't relate to people my age, and the ones in my class didn't like me because they thought I was a "know it all" and "bookworm", as they used to call me. Being able to tell when they were lying to me didn't help either. The teachers didn't make it any easier for me to like school, they hated that I always answered everything right, and eventually stopped asking me questions.

Some would say it was my father's fault for teaching me such things, but it wasn't, and I never felt like I was missing out on living, I wouldn't have traded the time I spent with him and everything I learned for anything.

My mother was the complete opposite of my father; she was all about peace, and the freedom of your spirit. She was always kind; peaceful and happy. Being in harmony with nature, yoga, meditation, those were things I did with her. That the breathing techniques that I learned from her helped me with some of the things that I learned from my father was just a plus. I think her being like that is what made them perfect for each other, were my father was quiet and reserved, my mother was loud and outgoing; they were like yin and yang, in perfect harmony and balance.

We always had a good laugh in secret when she would try to cook, which we didn't allow often; because it was just not edible. She rarely got upset, but when she started cooking we knew that something was bothering her, so we would eat and pretend we liked it. Besides those rare times, I would always be the one to cook and bake; it's something I loved very much too. My parents loved my cooking; especially when I would cook grandmas old recipes, my father said it was like a journey back in time when he ate them. Italian was always one of my favorite foods too.

If my father taught me how to protect myself, and be prepared for the hardships in life; my mother taught me how to live in peace with the world and myself. To be confident, and not judge others by the way they looked but by how they acted. I wish that what she taught me had helped more when it happened, when I lost everything, when I finally really opened my eyes to the darkness of the world.


	2. Chapter 1

**AN:** Here is my second posting with the first chapter^^ Hope you are all enjoying it, feel free to leave your opinion:*

**Disclaimer: **Anything that belongs to Stephenie Meyer Is Hers, the rest is mine:P

**Chapter 1**

My name is Isabella Swan, I was born in a little town named Forks, but when my father started going up the ladder in the company we moved to Chicago when I was three years old. I don't remember anything from Forks, to me Chicago was my city, my home. We had a house that was a little isolated from the main part of the city, but I loved it. It was surrounded by forest which was breathtaking in my favorite season of the year, Fall, when the trees would change colors and then the floor would look beautiful when the leaves fell. Maybe if it had been better located, it wouldn't have happened.

I was just coming home from grocery shopping; and even though I learned to drive when I was twelve, I finally had gotten my car and motorcycle driver's license the month before after my 16th birthday, and my father gave me my own car that I loved, a Black Raven Cadillac Escalade AWD. Well it wasn't really a car, it was a monster, but hey, I was never a girly girl. You could say my parents were spoiling me, but I never asked for anything or got into any trouble, and since I finished high school this year and had just started at The University of Chicago Law School with a full scholarship, it was kind of like a reward.

If the fact that my father being home and not at work didn't seem strange and alerted me that something was wrong after I saw his car parked in the garage, then the fact that my mother didn't come to help me take the groceries inside when she heard me parking the car should have. But I could never have imagined what I would see when I went inside the house.

I had only just entered the front door and was about to call for my mother when I stopped dead in my tracks, with my words stuck in my throat. The living room was in complete chaos, the love seat was turned over, the magazines that used to be on the coffee table were scattered on the floor, together with glass from the vases and decorations my mother normally had all over the place, but all that I could see, all that had my attention was the trail of blood that went in the direction of the kitchen.

I didn't even notice dropping the groceries, the first thing on my mind was finding the gun my father had hidden behind the TV cabinet. After cocking the gun, I started going in the kitchens direction, as silently as possible, at the same time praying that my mother was alright and trying to remember everything my father taught me. When I got there and looked inside I almost fell to my knees. There in the middle of the kitchen, an arm stretched in the direction of were the telephone that was now broken on the floor used to be was my mother, with a pool of blood under her. I ran to her kneeling beside her, gently turning her onto her back and trying to find her pulse even though in the back of my mind I knew that it wouldn't happen.

You know that moment when your worst fear comes true, when even though you are expecting and feel prepared for something, when you are finally absolutely certain, finally have a concrete proof that it is true, when that feeling you already had there surfaces, and slams into you leaving you breathless, and disorientated, making you feel like someone is squeezing your heart, and pressing your lungs, and all you want to do is scream until your throat is raw and then roll into a fetal position and pray it will pass soon. That's how I felt, that feeling of complete despair, heartbreak, and helplessness when I couldn't feel my mother's pulse, when I finally had to believe she was gone.

My loving and kind mother, my best friend, the person that brought me into this world and loved me even before I entered it, was now gone. I would never hear her laugh again, I would never be able to help her in the garden or practice yoga together on a warm evening ever again, I would never again taste and laugh at her horrid cooking, and tell her it was great, or try one of her many fleeting hobbies with her.

I don't even know when I started crying, or how long I was there kneeling in a pool of her blood cradling her head to my chest and sobbing, the gun still in my hand, it could have been seconds, minutes or even hours, I don't know.

Suddenly I finally remembered that my father was supposed to be home since I saw his car in the garage, and my breath got stuck in my throat. A sense of dread entered me, and I tried not to think what my heart already knew. I kissed my mother's forehead and gently lay her head on the ground. Getting up on shaky knees I wiped my tear stained cheeks with the back of my free hand, while taking deep breaths trying to calm myself. Even though I figured whoever was here and did this was long gone, I decided not to take chances and keep the gun ready.

I started walking slowly back in the direction of the living room and called for my father, praying that I was wrong, and for some reason he wasn't also dead, that I hadn't lost them both. I was already in the living room and was going to call him for a third time when I heard a noise coming from their room. I brought the gun up, and started moving rapidly but cautiously in that direction, going up the stairs with my back against the wall. When I'm finally at the door to their room I hear another noise and stop. The door is slightly open, but not much, I hold my breath and try to listen closely. And that's when I hear it, and I will never forget it, my father's voice, sounding weak and choked calling my name, sending a shiver down my back.

I open the door and there sitting against their bed was my father, his gun five feet away from him, with bullet wounds on his chest, and breathing with difficulty. My heart stopped, because never before had I seen my father like this, never so weak, never so defeated. I'm used to seeing a strong man and even though calm and reserved, always with that mischief and spark in his eyes.

His voice calling my name brings me out of my frozen state and before I even know it I'm beside him. I drop the gun and right away grab the bed cover and put pressure on his bullet wounds. I go to grab my phone while at the same time thinking how stupid I am for not doing it sooner, when his hand grabs mine and stops it.

"It's too late Bells, they won't make it on time." He says with labored breathing. And I squeeze my eyes shut.

"Daddy, please don't say that, please, I… I can't lose you too." I let my head droop against his shoulder, shaking with the force of trying to control my sobs.

"I'm so sorry Bells, this is all my fault." My head snaps up and I look at him. I go to speak but he interrupts me. "No Bella, it is, it was my career that caused this. I'm so sorry, I never wished for this to happen, I wish we weren't going to leave you alone when you are so young."

"Dad, please don't leave me, I don't know what I'll do, I don't have anyone else, I don't want anyone else."

"My sweet Bells you don't need anyone, you are the strongest and most intelligent person I know. Even though I wish it wasn't this way, I know you are able to survive this." While he speaks his voice grows weaker and my sobs louder. "We may not be here anymore but we will always be looking after you, you just have to remember everything we taught you and everything you are still going to learn with that smart little head of yours and you will be just fine. Just remember that we love you, and always will." He starts coughing, and blood runs down the corner of his mouth, and I start crying harder with my head on his shoulder.

"Bella, look at me." He says with urgency in his voice and I look up. "You have to be careful, who did this is dangerous, please don't go poking your nose around, please don't do anything. I know you, and I know how stubborn you are, but don't go after them. Promise me, please. I'm so happy you weren't here when this happened." I look at him, his eyes pleading for me not to do exactly what he knows I will.

"I won't Daddy, I promise." Even though I think we both know I'm lying, I know that it is what he needs to hear. "But you have to tell me who did this, so I can tell your colleagues. Please, they need to pay for what they did."

"I don't know who did it Bells; I just know it was someone from one of the cases I worked on. They said this was payback but never for what." He starts coughing harder and breathing with more difficulty. "I… I love you Bella, me and your mother, you are the best thing that happened to us, our…little… angel."

"I love you too Daddy, you and mom…" He gives me a small smile, and I stay looking at him, seeing a tear fall down his face, while the light in his eyes fades away. And looking back at me aren't his bright brown eyes so much like mine anymore, but dead, lifeless, unseeing eyes.

And it is something I will never forget, those eyes, that moment, when everyone I loved left me, when I lost the second one of the most important people in my life, all in the same day, all in minutes. And it was then, when that last bit of light left his eyes that all light also left my heart, and all that was left was darkness.


	3. Chapter 2

**AN:** Here is a new one, hope it will get more reviews, I wanna know your opinion guys^^

**Disclaimer: **Anything that belongs to Stephenie Meyer Is Hers, the rest is mine:P

**Chapter 2**

**-**Five Years Latter**-**

"_Be strong when you are weak. Be brave when you are scared. Be humble when you are victorious_." I thought to myself over and over again, to calm myself and focus while I assembled my M40A1 Snipers Rifle. When I was finished I looked at my watch and saw that it was finally time. After getting into place and grabbing the disposable phone I brought with me I dialed the number and put it between my ear and my shoulder. Using my scope I watched the target move to the room where I knew his house phone would be, and where I had a complete view of his movements, god bless glass walls.

"Hello, this is Ivan." I hear his voice heavy with accent on the other side of the line.

"Hello Mr. Kozak, how are you this fine night?" I asked in a sensual tone.

"Who are you? How did you get this number?"

"Oh Ivan, you don't need to know my name, talking to me is enough. Tell me, do you know what happens to bad boys?" He doesn't answer and I see him sit on his office chair. "They get punished. Have you been a bad boy?" I ask in a hushed purr.

"Tell me who you are, are you looking for a job?" I can hear his breathing becoming labored, probably from excitement. Because you see, even though his job mostly consists of dominating and demeaning other people, he loves being the one dominated in a little S&M. That's a very interesting information I found out while digging into his life.

"Oh Ivan! You bad boy." I give a girly giggle. "You are the job. Did you really think you could keep trafficking people and nothing would happen?" I say seriously, putting as much menace as I can into my voice. I see him sit straighter in his chair and decide to end my little game. "Скажите До свидания Суку(1), I'll see you in hell."

I already know the distance of the target so while I finish talking I check the wind direction and speed by looking at the trees a few yards away from me in order to fire my shot accurately. I slowly breathe in and hold it; when I feel that it is the right moment I slowly breathe out, and finally take my shot, shooting him right in the head. It all happened in seconds; whatever he was saying got cut off by the bullet. I saw him slump back in his chair and slide down a little.

Thanks to my rifles muffler it was a silent kill, allowing me to take my time leaving the place I was at. And it would also make it so he wouldn't be found out immediately, giving me time to get far away from here and to my alibi, not that I ever needed one, but it is better to be safe than sorry.

I had been studying this target for a month now, learning his routine, what he likes and dislikes, finding out his schedule for today, and making sure he was where I wanted him at the exact time I wanted him there. His name was Ivan Kozak, blond with blue eyes, tall and buff; with his nice looks and expensive suit he still had a sleazy demeanor, and had this dangerous aura that screams at you to stay away.

He's the boss of the Russian Mafia, and uses Los Angeles as a base for his Human Trafficking, bringing girls from all over the country by making them think they are going to be models, or actresses, and are being sent to a training camp, or to their main office. Then he gets them out of the US by boat through Santa Monica, to be taken to Russia mainly but also other countries.

When they get there they are used for prostitution, most being drugged into submission, and many ending up dying from STDs, murdered for misbehaving, or simple because they aren't useful anymore. Some get lucky you could say, depends of the point of view, and start being used as their drug mules, which earns them certain privileges. Families are ripped apart; dreams are crushed, parents keep looking for their daughters all their lives, always wondering what happened, where they are.

You could ask where do I get the right to take justice into my own hands, well I don't kill everyone I think deserves dying, I just kill the people that the law can't catch. Of course, not all of them, I don't go around killing everyone that does something that should put them in jail. They traffic drugs, well people only buy them because they want; they traffic guns; well I'm all about guns, so that would be kind of hypocritical. There are only three kinds of people I can't forgive, that to me the only sentence that can be given to them is death. And those are, like in this case people that commit human trafficking, as well as rapists and pedophiles. When those are the cases; I become judge, jury and executioner.

Those kinds of people don't deserve to live in this world, after stealing people's happiness and dreams, as well as their lives, replacing them with nightmares and pain; then in some cases after all that suffering taking their lives to. When that isn't the case, those victims will live the rest of their lives scarred physically and emotionally, never being able to let go, always remembering, always suffering. And that is something I can't forgive, for it is too close to my heart, too close to my own scars.

After putting my gun and the cellphone that I would dispose of later in its suitcase I placed it aside and started erasing my present from the scene by spraying a special chemical I had designed a year ago. It will make any hair or skin particle unable to be used as a means to do a DNA match. After doing that and checking the hallway to make sure no one was there I left the apartment and made my way to my car.

For being a Russian Mob boss you would think that he would have better security to make it more difficult to get to him, but while by day he is surrounded by bodyguards, by night when he's at home there is only two, and they are always outside the house. Apparently he didn't want his subordinates finding out about his little fetish, and he thought he was untouchable in his own house, making my job so much easier. Well he should have invested in some bullet proof windows.

While walking to my car that I left two blocks away from the scene, I called my only friend and business partner Angela Weber number, let it ring twice and ended the call, so she knew to be ready. When I got to my midnight blue Jaguar XKR, the driver's door opened and Angela came out holding my white 5 inch stilettos, purse and jewelry. She was wearing a light blue dress that flowed freely and had crystals forming a design around her chest.

I took off my black trench coat, staying only in my white one shoulder dress, which is simple but beautiful, covered with little sequins; it hugged all my curves and stopped mid-thigh, but instead of looking whorish it looked elegant. I passed the coat and the suitcase to her and took off my black pumps putting on my stilettos and jewelry, while she made her way to the passenger's side after putting my things in the car trunk. I know she is just waiting for us to enter the car to start firing questions on how it went, and if we didn't have to hurry I would stall as much as possible just to annoy her.

I got into the car and started it, going straight away to where the fundraising/inauguration party was going to be. As soon as I was settled behind the steering wheel I started counting down from three in my head, when I got to one, Angela being as predictable as I have always known her to be started questioning me a mile a minute.

"So Bella tell me, how did it go? Any complications? Did anyone see you?"

"Ang stop before you bite your tongue from talking so fast." I interrupted her. "And the answers to your questions are: perfect, no and no" I said laughing.

"I hate when you do that and you know it. Give…Me…Details" She said accentuating each word while glaring at me.

"I know you hate it, that's what makes it fun. You know I'm pro at Bitchcraft." I said winking at her.

"What the hell is Bitchcraft?" She asked while fighting between being amused and pissed.

"Oh you don't know yet? You should, you see me doing it all the time."

"Come on, just spit it."

"Bitchcraft my friend is the art of pissing people off while smiling sweetly." And to mark my point I smiled sweetly at her. She looked at me for two seconds and then broke down laughing.

"God Bella…Only you…Could come up with shit like that." She finally said still trying to control her laugh.

"You know I have bypassed crazy, slid by insane, and am on my way to straight up psychotic." I said trying to stay serious but ending up smirking, while sending her into another round of giggles. We both knew there was some truth in my words, even if I was joking at the moment.

"Ok. Now, tell me how it went already." She said when she finally stopped laughing.

"Ang you know it went perfect just like it always does, he was there just like he was supposed to, I played my little game, and then killed him after letting him know exactly why it was happening. No one saw me, and now we are going to forget it, and enjoy the rest of the night, we have a party to host."

"I still can't believe you did it on the same day as the fundraising for victims of domestic abuse, slash party of inauguration of the new aid house for said victims you just opened here." She said shaking her head.

"Well you know what they say about killing two birds with one stone." When I heard her giggling I noticed what I had said. "No pun intended Ang." I said laughing. "And it is the perfect alibi, no one would suspect someone of committing murder right before attending a fundraising for a good cause, an event said person is hosting. And by the time they find him we will have been there for long enough, AND we have no connection to the target."

"I know, I know. Well it was a good idea to open a new house here, even if it was due to the hit. Now for a change of subject." I looked at her with my eyebrow raised when she hesitated. Finally she cleared her throat and said. "Don't you think that dress is a little too sexy for the occasion?" I couldn't help laughing.

"No I don't think it is, I think its looks very elegant, and even if it is, maybe it will raise the donations." I said smirking.

"Only you Bella would think of raising donations through sex appeal." She couldn't help smirking too.

"Oh I'm pretty sure I'm not the first one to think of it. Either way, putting that aside. When is our flight back tomorrow? I'm anxious to finally be done with LA and go back home." I finished saying with a sigh.

"Let me make sure." I looked at her and saw her checking her cell phone. "Our flight to Chicago leaves at 8pm, I booked that one so we can sleep in and still have time to go to the aid home and wrap anything that's left to do."

"Hmm, good idea, so that will get us there by 11 pm, I'll take you to your house and then head home and relax." I said just as we were getting outside the venue for the party. "Now are you ready for a night of entertaining sleazebags and stuck up bitches?" I asked her with my overly nice voice and putting my fakest smile on.

"God don't even remind me, if it wasn't for the women we help I would never do this." She said giving me a pained look.

"I know Ang, I know. Now let's get this show on the road." And with that I left the car, fake smile on my face, and trying not to be blinded by the flashes from the reporters. "This is going to be a long night." I whispered to Angela while lacing our arms together and going to answer some question before going inside for god know how many hours.

* * *

*(1)Скажите До свидания Суку – Say Goodbye Bitch


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